Through the Shattered Looking Glass
by LadyKnightSkye
Summary: When Starscream's Allspark goes awry, Elita-One and her band are sent to a strange world where enemies are allies and allies are enemies. Along with Mikaela Banes and the soldiers of SECTOR7 they must find the prodigal founder of the Autobots: Megatron.
1. Prologue: Worlds Apart

A _Handler/Companion Chronicles _Story

_**Through the Shattered Looking Glass**_

_Elita in Wonderland _Part 1

**Warnings: **Violence, sexual themes, profanity

**Pairings**: StarscreamxThunderblast, MikaelaxLennox, MegatronxElita-One, mentions of OptimusxArcee

**Prologue: Daydreams Worlds Apart**

* * *

_Mikaela_

She had never been very popular, nor had she ever felt particularly beautiful.

Mikaela Anne Banes had always been the slightly nerdy girl who sat in the front of the class hanging onto the teacher's every word. She didn't start wearing makeup until her sophomore year in high school, and had never even _thought _about having a boyfriend. Her best friend in the universe was Tranquility High's resident "queen" Samuel James Witwicky.

Sam had been friends with her since she had moved to Tranquility in first grade. Even then he'd been more comfortable playing house with her than playing baseball. He was nerdy, but he managed to make good grades while looking like a male model. Mikaela had never cared enough to try to do anything about her own looks, even though Sam had repeatedly told her that her body was awesome, and she guessed he had a point. When she looked in the mirror she had a pleasing hourglass shape, but she had never seen the point in playing up her looks. Her mother had drilled it into her enough that looks wouldn't get her nearly as far as they used to.

Her life was normal, and Mikaela cherished her normality. She lived out her life as she was expected to, but sometimes she did daydream of something more. In her deepest fantasy she would meet a handsome man riding a dark horse who would save her from impending doom. He would be kind, gentle, but not the wimpy, sugary sweet lump that modern teens seemed to like. Her favorite song was Bonnie Tyler's _Holding Out For A Hero_ because the lyrics spoke to her. She was waiting for her streetwise Hercules to come to her, fresh from whatever battle he had to fight.

She never even contemplated that she would be in the middle of said battle.

* * *

_Elita-One_

She had always been known as a student of the Ancients.

Elita-One had always been known to her fellows as one of the most devoted researchers of the old ways as she was fascinated by the ancients and the legends that had been lost. She was especially interested in the Dynasty of Primes and the surrounding myths. One in particular always enthralled her. On one small section of the Allspark was the mention of the "Magi", an order of bots that was supposed to have been the personal servants of the Primes. This one tale managed to catch her attention like nothing else.

That one small tale was the reason she devoted her life to research, and to that end she joined the Science Division. The Science Division worked with the Cybertron Defense Forces to ensure that the past was preserved so that the Cybertronians could preserve their future. She was enchanted by the information that she was able to uncover while working in the Science Division.

It was there that she met her best friend Arcee. The two femmes had hit it off grandly the first day that they had met while both working as assistants to Captain Ratchet. Elita liked Ratchet well enough, but she quickly became good friends with Commander Optimus. Optimus was a young mech pretty close in physical age and mental maturity to Elita and Arcee. He was easy to be around because of his restful nature and sharp wit. As they lived and worked together, Elita watched the blossoming romance between Optimus and Arcee with an amused air. She thought the two of them would make a fine couple, but she did not think much about her own love life.

At least she didn't until the day the Science Division got its first visit from the new Chief Commander of the Defense Forces. From the first time she saw him, Elita-One developed a crush on him. There was something about him, something within him that called to her like nothing else she'd ever experienced. She didn't exactly like it.

"Arcee, I'm acting like a sparkling." she muttered.

Her friend giggled. "Do not despair Elita. I asked Optimus what he thought of this Megatron mech. He said that he wasn't too terribly insufferable, and that he had asked about you."

Elita nearly overturned her cup of Energon. Her Companion blushed scarlet. "He asked after me?"

"Apparently he wished to know who you were." Arcee said. "Mayhap he is interested in you as well."

Elita-One went through her routine for a long while with those thoughts buoying her. After a few vorns her hope of any reciprocation fast began to wane as her future encounters with Megatron were just as polite and formal as the first. Then one day, she received a missive from the Defense Forces' headquarters. "The leader of the Defense Forces cordially invites you to the annual Senate Ball." Elita plopped down into her chair. "Oh my."

Optimus shook his head. "He finally moves."

Elita-One stared at the card. "I accept." she whispered.

That was the same day that Optimus and Arcee went out to the newest dig near Trypticon and Metrotitan. The site had already yielded promising artifacts, including fragments of stone that had ancient writing on them. Elita was ecstatic, but when the building began to rock from explosions outside, she was forced to lock down the lab. She would be told later of the strange aliens that had attacked the city, and the even stranger behavior of Megatron.

"Optimus, what could he possibly hope to gain from this?" she whispered after listening to Megatron's speech. He had made a great show of telling the Defense Forces to hunt down the aliens and destroy them. Then he had jumped into the air, leading the Defense Forces into space.

"He's calling us to arms." Optimus murmured. "I have no idea what he personally has to gain from warmongering, but it is obviously important to him."

"But it's wrong." Elita cried. "It's against everything we hold to be right!" How could the mech that she had placed up on a pedestal act this way? How could he change from the distantly polite mech who had captured her imagination to this cold, brutal caricature? Or had she always been wrong about him?

Her outburst did not go unnoted.

The next night found Elita alone in the labs near Simfur. Optimus, Arcee, and Ratchet had gone back out to the Metrotitan site, but she had stayed behind to analyze the fragments of stone that they'd uncovered. She was still enthralled by the idea of these possibly being connected to the Dynasty of Primes. She was slowly sucked into the thoughts of a world long past, but her reverie was shattered by Clocker's frantic cries.

"_Elita! Elita!_"

She punched open the door to the lab and stepped into the hall. "Clocker, what's wrong?"

"We've got to get out of here! Megatron has issued a warrant for our arrest!" he answered. The mech slowed and grabbed her arm. "We've got to get out of here!"

Elita was frozen. "He's issued . . . Warrants? For what crime?"

Clocker looked stricken. "Treason."

That one word shattered Elita's world. Moments before she had been floating on a cloud of dreams of the Primes, only to have her dream-mech rip the veil from her eyes and optics. "Why?"

The younger mech pulled her along. "Because we work with Optimus. Optimus has done something that has completely torqued Megatron. All members of the Science Division that did not heed Megatron's call to arms are to be hunted down and executed on the spot for their act of sedition."

Elita-One vaguely nodded and turned to follow Clocker out, her mind completely numb. She followed him blindly as he managed to get them both out of Simfur before it was too late. She did not let herself think until much, much later, and when she did Elita decided that she was torqued beyond all reason. Later she would find an Earth phrase to suit her true feelings.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

After that fateful night, Elita became one of Optimus Prime's most trusted generals. She did her duty with a nearly single-minded attention. Only Optimus and Arcee knew the extent of Elita's resentment and pain. They did what they could to comfort her, and Elita eventually got over the deep feelings of betrayal that she carried. She reasoned that it wasn't like they had had a relationship. Yes, she had thought she was in love with him, but it was probably only a convoy-cub crush, only made more poignant because it was her first.

She sometimes wondered though, why her Companion still cried at night.


	2. The Adventure Begins

**Chapter 001: The Adventure Begins **

_Mikaela_

"Hey girl."

Mikaela Banes turned to smile up at her best friend in the universe. "What's up Sam?"

The boy slid into the seat beside her on the picnic table. She grinned as he gave their mutual friend Miles a flirty wink across the table while stealing one of Miles' cookies. "Other than Miles' blood pressure?"

"Ah man! Sam!" the boy cried as he pulled his cookies closer to him. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. "My mom makes those only once a week! Don't eat em all!"

Sam shared a look with Mikaela. "Chill Miles, it was only one."

Miles grumbled something uncomplimentary underneath his breath. Mikaela shook her head and poked Sam. "Did you finally finish that genealogy project?"

He smiled. "Yeah. By the way," he said as he pulled a small pouch from his front pocket, "These are for you."

She took the pouch and gently opened it. "What are they?"

"My great-grandfather Archibald Witwicky's glasses." he said proudly.

"The same one that made that great discovery that made your family rich?" Miles asked as he pored over his chemistry textbook.

"One and the same." Sam smiled. "According to family legend, he had to make the trip back blind because his glasses had somehow become scratched beyond use."

Mikaela gently unfolded the antique frames and lifted them to her eyes. She noticed first that Captain Witwicky was apparently near sighted, and then the fact that the lenses were indeed nearly unusable. "I can still sort of see out of these." she murmured.

Sam made a moue with his lips. "Well, that's just the legend. Great-Grandpa probably made it home wearing them. He got new ones, but those are supposed to be souvenirs of the event."

She choked. "And you're giving them to me?!"

Sam nodded. "You're my best friend in the universe Mick. I think my grandfather would like you to have them if he knew how much you love antiques."

"But Sam, the family history-"

"Mick, no one has seen those things in over a hundred years. My Dad only just found them in the attic of my grandpa's when we were cleaning it out. Per ancestral order, we don't flaunt our wealth, nor do we talk about it all that much."

Mikaela nodded. "You don't even know what he found right?"

"Nope, not a clue. And if they way he talked about it is any indication, I don't think any of us really wants to know."

* * *

"Mikaela honey how was school?"

The girl smiled up at her mother. "It was okay. Look what Sam gave me."

Delilah Banes examined the glasses with curious eyes. "Why give you a pair of old glasses?"

"For the history. They belonged to his great-grandfather who was an explorer. Supposedly he found something really valuable, but it was kept secret from everybody. He made a killing off of it, and that's why Sam's family is loaded." Mikaela explained.

Delilah nodded. "I see. I always wondered though, why don't they live in a richer area?"

Mikaela shrugged. "It's just a tradition that they don't flaunt their wealth. They keep it on the down low, as Sam says."

Delilah shook her head. "Crazy bunch."

"Yeah, but a cool piece of history hunh?" Mikaela said as she took back her precious glasses.

Her mother turned back to the counter. "Your dad will be home soon. Want to help me with dinner?"

"Sure."

It was several hours later before Mikaela was able to sit down and give the glasses a thorough cleaning. She gently handled the frames, and was extra careful on the lenses. The strange patterns might have made the glass more fragile than age had done already. Once she was done, she gently placed them beside an old compass and map dating from the early twentieth century on her shelf.

She smiled and then sat down at her computer. She turned it on, and then logged onto the online game that she was currently addicted to. The title flashed up on the screen.

_**Massive Dynamics presents**_

**Heavy Metal War**

Mikaela logged onto her character and then smiled when she saw who was waiting for her. _What's up Roddy?_

The larger orange and yellow robot turned to her on the screen. Her own robot stood beside it, dwarfed even though the other was in reality only medium sized. Her robot was spindly and a dark teal. _Well, well, if it isn't Bluelights_.

Mikaela smiled at the screen. _Yeah. Need any help bustin' Decepticon heads?_

_Help would be much appreciated. We've got a major incursion in the Las Vegas area._ he told her.

_I'm with you Rodimus. Anyone else joining us? Has Streetsmarts come online?_ she asked. Sam was usually on when she got on.

_No, I haven't seen him yet, but Warhawk and Gator are already in Vegas. I was waiting for you_.

Mikaela tried to tamp down on the rush of pleasure she felt. She'd been playing this game for months, and had met Rodimus after a week of playing. She really liked the guy, and after hours of hanging out with him, she had a little bit of a crush on him. _Cool. Let's roll out!_

_Right behind you Blue!_

* * *

Not that far from Mikaela's bedroom in Tranquility was the thriving metropolis known as Mission City. The tallest building in Mission was the skyscraper that housed the company called Massive Dynamics. The top floor housed the CEO's suite, which was currently inhabited by two men.

The first man was stretched out behind his desk, feet propped up and arms behind his head as he watched the massive computer screen on the wall. "She's good."

The lithe man at the computer in front on the screen nodded. "She's really good."

The first man slid his eyes to his comrade. "You seem to enjoy working with her. Do you want me to tap her?"

The other man didn't respond. "She's just a kid. I already checked on her."

"Kid or not, we could use as many allies as we can get." the first man said. "What's your real reason for not tapping her?"

The other man shook his head. "You want the truth?"

"The absolute truth."

"I like her too much to ask her to become one of us."

The first man nodded. "I can understand that. What I ask of you and your men is rather . . . Extreme."

"Not to mention, for all we know this girl is really a shy kid who's using the internet as a place to try to be someone she's not." the second man pointed out.

The first man smiled and shook his head. "It amazes me that more people don't realize that their personalities on the internet aren't someone they're not. Internet personas are merely other parts of their own nature coming to the fore and being nurtured."

"Oh, so the pedophiles posing as twelve year old boys are only tapping their inner twelve year old, hunh?" the second man asked sarcastically.

"There is a twelve year old in all of us, or do I need to ask why you get such an unholy pleasure in playing a game when you deal with the real thing?" the first man retorted. "Be it as it may, the girl is feisty and headstrong there in the world of Heavy Metal War, so somewhere within her is Bluelights, just waiting to be let free."

* * *

_Elita-One_

Elita felt her Companion's head and her Handler's processor pounding. It was times like these that she wished she were like those amazing Nebulons that only had _one_ part to their being. Two heads was not better than one right now. "Ugh." she groaned.

"Elita-One?"

She onlined her optics and opened her eyes. "Grindcore?" she whispered.

The larger mech nodded and then bent down so that his Handler's immense face was level with both of her much smaller ones. "You took a nasty hit when they captured us."

Elita sat up slowly as she remembered the attack.

_An aerial Decepticon strafed the area as she and Warpath duck under a destroyed building for cover. She looks over to her younger comrade. "Well, this isn't good." she said._

"_No, I can't imagine what they're attacking us for. They can't even know that we're Autobots. They came at us from too high an angle."_

"_Uh oh, it looks like we'll find out soon. Ramjet's landed."_

"_Damn it." she muttered._

She looked back up at Grindcore and then around their holding cell. "Is Warpath alright? What did they do to him?"

"Warpath's fine. They took him out to begin work." Grindcore explained.

Elita tried to gain her feet. "Work on what?"

Grindcore-Companion's dark skin paled, and Elita realized that something was really wrong. "Starscream has returned. He is trying to build a new Allspark."

Elita felt her Companion's face go bloodless, which would make her appear dead. Her skin was abnormally fair on this world populated by dusky skinned Companions. "But . . . That is heresy. Have they not found the Allspark? Or is Starscream trying to consolidate more power for himself? And what of Megatron? By the Allspark and the gods of the Ancient Companions, _what is going on_?"

He shook his head. "Megatron is dead, and the Allspark is destroyed. All of this took place on a planet approximately five thousand light years away from galactic center. From what I've overheard, the planet is called Earth by its inhabitants."

Elita crawled over towards the wall and leaned against it. "That sounds shockingly egotistical."

"Well, from the release that was posted on the Teletran network, the planet can also be called Terra. Starscream came back with research that the natives did on the Allspark, and according to the release, he wants to recreate the Allspark in order to insure our survival." Grindcore explained.

Elita shook her head and looked back up at him. "How do you know this?"

Grindcore sneered. "Starscream gave me a data pad record of it so I would know that I was 'helping all of Cybertron'. Those were his words."

"Helping all of Cybertron by using slave labor." Elita muttered.

"I see you are as enthused by this as I am." Grindcore agreed.

Elita-Companion made a moue. "Why aren't we out working with Warpath?" Grindcore shrugged. "I know you weren't taken because you were still out. I'm not so sure why they didn't try to make me work."

Elita finally tried to stand, but she only made it as far as her knees. "Well," a grating voice purred, "I can see why Megatron would have wished to bring you into a trine."

Elita-One's head snapped up to meet the eyes and optics of the new Decepticon leader. "I would sooner become Unicron's concubine then enter into any sort of relationship with you."

Starscream waved aside the two mechs that flanked him and knelt to look through the bars, straight into Elita's eyes and optics. "If memory serves, you had wanted to. Megatron knew all about your little crush. He was amused by it I think, since he only mentioned it in passing once. He said that he had decided to give you a 'trial run' to see if he wished to enter into a liaison with you."

Elita did not show any emotion, but the blow to her spark was still the same. "And how would he have known about my little crush? As it is, that was long before he developed his fetish for whipping mechs."

Starscream-Companion's eyes glowed with malice. "His spies were numerous even before the final split. He knew, and he often lamented not keeping such a beautiful, naïve little thing like you around." Starscream's eyes and optics moved over her lazily. "I would agree. Thus, you can't have meant that mean little remark about preferring the Dark One to us. Megatron and I really aren't that bad."

Elita-Companion's face was emotionless a moment before a sweet smile wreathed her face. "Oh, I meant it. I said I would sooner become Unicron's concubine than be with _you_. Megatron was never apart of that equation."

Starscream would have loved to strike her, but the bars prevented it. "You're lucky you are to be of use to me, Elita-One. I understand that you were a serious student of the Allspark. I hope you still remember the patterns, since that will make your life so much easier."

"So, that's why Grindcore and I aren't out working. We're your specialized help." Elita nearly snarled.

Starscream nodded. "Yes. I figured you could use an assistant. Once the grunts complete the first section, you'll be called out to carve in the glyphs."

Elita nodded. "As you wish." she stated sardonically.

Starscream reached through the bars and took hold of her chin. "You will remember who the lord is here, or I could let the grunts carve in those symbols. If being with me would be the ultimate punishment for you, then being chained to my berth would be a fitting fate." he snarled as he pushed her away from him. Elita landed hard on an already bruised and scrapped hip, wincing in pain. Grindcore made a rush for the bars, appalled and enraged by Starscream's lack on manners towards a femme in a peaceful - or at least relatively peaceful - situation.

"Leave him Grindcore." Elita commanded. The other Autobot listened to her command reluctantly.

Starscream-Companion smirked. "The first section should be ready in a little over a joor." He walked away, but stopped. "Ramjet, get a medic down here to check her out. She must be in good condition to carry out her part."

"Yes, Lord Starscream."

Elita-One narrowed her eyes and optics. "Well, at least he isn't a total loss to the femme race." she muttered. Grindcore rushed back over to help her sit up straight.

"So, at least we know now what he wants with you." Grindcore said.

Elita nodded. "His plan cannot work. The Allspark was a gift from the Ancient Gods. Starscream likes to think he's a god, but we all know the truth."

Grindcore agreed. "He'll discover that his plan will come to naught soon enough."

She shook her head. "I'm afraid Grindcore. Why take prisoners to use as labor when I'm sure that there are plenty loyal enough to whoever is in power to do it for free anyway? He needs us for something more."


	3. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Chapter 002: Down the Rabbit Hole**

_Mikaela_

It was nearly one in the morning on a Saturday when Mikaela was dragged from sleep by her cell phone's ringing. She reluctantly opened her eyes, but still had to feel around on the night stand because of the complete darkness of her room. She finally grasped the phone and flipped it open. "Hello?" she asked, her normally low voice further deepened by sleep.

"Mikaela, this is Mrs. Judy."

The girl sat completely upright in bed. "Mrs. Judy? What's wrong?"

Sam's mother sobbed once before she answered. "Sam's in the hospital. He was attacked earlier tonight. He's in the Intensive Care Unit."

"Do you need me?" she whispered. Mikaela had become almost apart of the Witwicky family, and she knew that Mrs. Judy and Mr. Ron were in utter agony. Sam was their only child. "I can be at the hospital really quickly."

"No, no. I don't want you out on the streets. The police say Sam was probably mugged. I do not want you out on the streets. I just wanted to call you because I know that you would want to be told." Mrs. Judy explained quickly.

"Alright. Thanks Mrs. Judy. I'll be praying for him." Mikaela replied. "Get some rest Mrs. Judy and call me if anything changes."

"I will dear." she said before hanging up.

Mikaela replaced the phone on her night stand just before she heard the knock on her door. "Sweetie, who was that?"

"Mrs. Judy, Dad. Sam's in the hospital." she answered softly.

Her father walked into the room. "You okay sweetie? I know Sam's your best friend."

"I'm worried. How bad could a mugging be to land him in the Intensive Care Unit?" Cal Banes never liked discussing his past on the streets, but here he felt that she needed to know the truth. "Honey, people have been killed for less than what Sam must carry in cash."

Mikaela felt her eyes watering. "Sam doesn't deserve that. No one deserves that."

Cal sat down beside his daughter and hugged her tight. "I know sweetheart. I know."

* * *

Mikaela had gone to visit Sam in the hospital, but she had found herself unable to stay long. Sam was so beat up that it broke her heart. The doctors were sure that he would live, but they were sure that he would never walk again either.

It was all so unfair.

Mikaela was wandering down around the lake in the community park as she brooded on Sam's plight. She didn't notice that she wasn't alone until it was too late. "A pretty young lady like you shouldn't be out alone."

She froze. On the surface the voice sounded friendly and welcoming, but she detected a faint hint of malice underneath the veneer of friendliness. She slowly turned to face the man who had spoken. He was a pleasant-faced young man, but his eyes made her stop.

They were blood red.

"Who are you?" she breathed, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"Are you the sweet little girl that that naughty little Sammy gave his grandfather's glasses to?" the man asked, stepping out from the shadow of a tree to let sunlight fall on his pale skin and black hair. His face was marked with black and yellow stripes.

"How do you know Sam?" she cried.

"We need the glasses girl."

Mikaela whirled around at the sound of the newcomer's voice. This one was a large, black man with the same freaky eyes. His face was covered in jagged tattoos that made her think of fangs. "What glasses?" she croaked, fear choking her.

"Don't play dumb." the black man snarled.

Mikaela finally managed to make her legs move. She darted into the trees, sprinting for all she was worth. She heard the curses of the men as they began to give chase, but she merely made herself run faster. She heard them crashing behind her, but Mikaela did not give into the temptation to look back. She had to use every advantage that she had, and one of those was that she knew the terrain. She loved running around in the forest around here.

She could see the trees growing thinner as she was almost out to the other side. She would be coming out at the highway, and that was the perfect place to get help. She didn't slow, and that only made the arm that snaked around her waist hurt more. Her forward momentum caused her to hit the ground with him beside her. She screamed bloody murder, but the voice that growled into her ear did not share the malicious cadence of the other two.

"It's alright little one. I'm a friend." She stared up at his face as he rose to his feet. The only resemblence she could see between this man and the other two were the strange tattoos covering his face. His also reminded her of fangs, but somehow, on his face they didn't seem so terrifying. Before she could speak or move, he scooped her up into his arms and began to run. She heard her two pursuers cry out in anger behind them.

The man paid no heed as he barreled the last few yards to the highway. The door of his black and white car was open, and Mikaela only just managed to recognize the paint job before he shoved her into the front seat. He slid across the hood and swung into the driver's seat. Just as he closed the door, the two men who were chasing them burst from the forest. The man burned rubber, and Mikaela turned to watch them grow smaller as her savior sped away.

She turned back towards the front and then buckled up. She glanced over at the man. "You're a cop."

The man smiled. "Not on this planet."

* * *

The woman stared down at the men with a sneer on her face. "How could you fail?! It was just one human girl!"

The black man lifted his head. The silver robot beside him moved the same. "Our ability to move was compromised by the forest. Before we could recover our lost ground, the Autobot Barricade managed to snag her."

The other man and his yellow robot lifted his head. "We were able to get a bead on what alternate mode Barricade-Handler is using. The particular automobile is distinctive."

The woman laughed meanly. "And that is supposed to placate me? You two have failed to obtain your target. You have failed me, Killerbee, Jazz."

Killerbee's eye and optic twitched. "What are your orders now?"

"_We_ will find the girl before Barricade can get her to the rest of the Autobots. From Ratchet's intel, they're all still trying to guard the human instillation in Qatar. We should have at least a day to retrieve her. When we find her, we will get the glasses, and this time, make sure she's dead. The boy is still alive." she snarled.

"Yes my lady." Killerbee said.

"And the Autobot, Lady Arcee?" Jazz inquired.

Her Companion smiled cruelly. "What do we usually do with Autobot traitors? Kill him."

* * *

_Elita-One_

Elita looked over her handy-work with a little bit of pride. The glyphs were perfectly carved and looked just like all the holograms they had on the cube. It was only too bad that this cube was not the real deal. "What do you think will become of us now Elita? The cube is done." Grindcore asked quietly.

"I imagine that we'll find out what Starscream is up to." she answered. "Wiether it will be for our own good or ill, well, that it is the final question."

The two watched Starscream make his way towards them. His Companion had a satisfied smirk on his face while Starscream-Handler looked ready to crow like a laser-beak who had made off with a petro-rabbit. "Finally, the work is complete." he said.

The leader of the Decepticons stopped before the two Autobots. "What do you think of your work Mistress Elita-One?"

Elita didn't let it show how much his mocking use of a formal title irked her. "I believe I did a very good job."

Starscream-Companion's smug expression grew even more mocking. She had stopped baiting him long ago, and he liked this much more cautious Elita. "And you did. I cannot see a difference between this cube and the original."

"Now, since our service to Cybertron is over," she asked, trying hard not to let any sarcasm creep into her voice, "May we leave?"

Warpath and Signal Flare moved closer, hoping beyond hope that it was finally time to leave this place. They wanted to be well away before Starscream's sacreligious act could be played to its end.

"I am afraid that your service is not yet over." Starscream said lightly. "We still need the four of you."

Dreadwing-Companion cleared his throat, and Dreadwing-Handler whirred. "Lord Starscream, we still need one more subject."

Elita-One looked between the two mechs, suddenly on high alert. Starscream nodded. "Grab one of the prisoners from the brig. Better yet, get that annoying pile of slag Crankcase."

Dreadwing nodded. "As you wish."

Starscream turned back to Elita. "Also, gather everyone in Trypticon into the main square. It's time."

"Time for what?" Elita asked.

"Guards, chain the subjects." Starscream ordered.

Several of the drone units that had been guarding the site grabbed Elita-One, Signal Flare, Warpath, and Grindcore. All four struggled against their captors. "What is the meaning of this?" Elita cried.

Starscream grasped her chin in his hand. "The Neo Allspark will need the power of five sparks to bring it to life. Once it is alive, it will begin producing the Energon again."

Elita-Companion was already paler than usual from exhaustion and stress. Starscream watched her skin bleach even more, and he took no pleasure in it. It looked like he was grasping a corpse. Then, her pale cheeks suffused with violent red as the blood rushed back through the veins in her face. "You fool!" she hissed. "This is unnecessary! There are other ways to make fuel! We have not relied on the Allspark for that function in vorns!"

Starscream shook his head. "We need it, not just for fuel Elita. The common people need it. The Allspark is a symbol unlike any other. Without it, they've lost all hope of ever seeing the end of war. _They need it_."

Elita finally saw beneath it all. Starscream wasn't talking about anyone but himself here. He was the one who needed an Allspark, not just to consolidate power, but also to remind himself why the war began in the first place. Starscream was completely insane - that she would agree with anyone on - but he was not evil, not in the all consuming sense that her fellows might think. In a twisted way, he cared about Cybertron, it was just buried underneath all his vanity and greed. "I understand, but it is not worth killing over. You can find another symbol for them to unite under. By the Pit, they weren't even united under the first Allspark."

He let go of her chin. "Chain her."

Elita didn't say a word as the drones chained first her Handler and then her Companion to the cube. She watched the main square where the cube now sat fill with Cybertronians. Most wore the Decepticon sigil, but almost as many were simple civilians, trying to eke out a living under which ever faction ruled their city-state. Numerous red, orange, blue, and yellow eyes and optics watched the five strapped to the cube, wondering what in the world was going on.

Elita did not listen as Starscream made his speech. She watched the Cybertronians who were milling all around, and she felt a deep well of regret. The war was not over, of that she was sure, and she would no longer be able to protect these people. Her death would ultimately be meaningless, as she was sure deep within herself that this cube would fail. "Please Starscream," she cried as he moved towards the switch, "This will not work! You're insane to even try!"

He shook his head without looking at her, and threw the switch.

The generators hummed a moment before Elita felt thousands of volts of electricity streaming through both of her bodies. She smelled the burning of her own Companion's flesh and felt the sparks flying from her Handler's body. Then, mercifully, the world went black.

* * *

"_Where am I?_" a voice asked.

"_I don't know . . . Grindcore. I - I can't feel anything._" another voice answered.

"_We . . . We must be in the Well of All Sparks._" a third masculine voice added.

"_I don't think so._" a fourth masculine voice stated. "_I still have both of me._"

Elita finally looked beyond the infinite white that she saw before her. Her Handler's head angled down, and her Companion's angled up until she was looking herself in the eye. "_He's right. I still have two halves. All has not become one. We are still alive._"

"_But how?_"

"_Where?_"

"_Why?_"

"_How long?_"

Elita turned to face her four comrades on this strange new quest. "_And for what purpose?_"

The solid material beneath her feet began to dissolve, and the five Cybertronians fell into another abyss.

* * *

Elita-One slammed into the ground with a jarring thud. She groaned, remembering how this was how it all began.

"Damn." she muttered underneath her breath. She felt a precense looming over her, and opened her eyes and onlined her optics cautiously. She looked up into the eyes and optics of a very familiar femme.

"Arcee? Arcee!" she cried, a smile wreathing her Companion's face. She had no idea how she had come to be in the same place as her best friend, but she was happy just the same.

Arcee stared down at Elita with a look of complete shock. Then, her face contorted into a mask of rage. It was then that Elita-One realized something was really, really wrong with her friend.

Arcee's eyes and optics were merciless crimson.


	4. Meet the Queen of Hearts

**Beta Reader:** PaperBerry of DeviantArt

**Chapter 003: Meet the Queen of Hearts**

Elita-One stared into Arcee's eyes and optics with a feeling of dread and confusion. "Arcee?" she whispered tentatively.

"You're supposed to be dead," Arcee snarled.

Before Elita could really process it, Arcee leapt for her. She dodged just as Arcee-Handler's bladed right arm would have hit her mid-section. Elita's entire body protested as she moved, and the pain nearly brought tears to her Companion's eyes. An internal systems check told her that even though her run in with Starscream's Neo Allspark had not killed her, she was still severely injured. She needed to end this battle quickly.

"What do you mean?" Elita cried in response as she ducked another blow.

Arcee stopped for a moment, and her eyes and optics narrowed. Elita warily moved back a few steps, taking in the surroundings for the first time. The place they were in was obviously a junkyard of some sort judging by the piles of scrap metal. Elita-One's soldiers were with her, but there were several others that seemed familiar. She didn't dwell on it just yet as she was still trying to process Arcee's animosity.

Arcee's next words brought Elita's attention back to her new enemy. "Who are you? You cannot be Elita-One. I killed _her_ with my own four hands."

Elita-One eyed the femme that she knew as Arcee. Little had made sense up until now, and the fact that this femme claimed that she had murdered Elita set off all kinds of alarm bells in Elita's head. What was going on? Where were they? She decided to answer the other femme, and stood up as straight as her protesting body would allow. "I am Autobot designation Elita-One, commander of the Praxis Forces, member of the Autobot Council."

Arcee-Companion's face transformed into an expression of complete shock. "Impossible. Elita-One was a Decepticon," she breathed in utter disbelief. "You _lie_!"

"Well, who are _you_? You can't be my sweet little Autobot Arcee," Elita shot back. With every word spoken, Elita became more convinced that something had gone horribly wrong with the Neo Allspark. Was its power the force that had brought her and her warriors here? So many questions needed to be answered.

"_I_?" Arcee drawled, "An Autobot?" She laughed menacingly. "Now I know you're utterly insane."

"The feeling's mutual." Elita stepped back towards her soldiers. She didn't like the way the wind was blowing. This Arcee was acting unpredictable, and Elita was wary of what she could do.

Arcee examined the stranger who said she was Elita for a long moment. "Decepticons, retreat."

Killerbee spoke up. "But Lady Arcee -"

"Do as I say!" Arcee stepped away, but turned back to look Elita in the eye. "You've bought yourself some time femme. The next time we meet, I will settle who you are, once and for all."

Elita watched her walk off and then turned to Grindcore. "What in the name of the Allspark and the Ancient Gods is going on?!"

Signal Flare nodded to the two mechs and the strange organic creature that were still staring at them like they were aliens. The organic creature gave Signal Flare pause because it looked like a female Companion, but he wasn't completely sure. "Right now Mistress I'm more worried about them."

Elita met the eyes and optics of the mech who stood slightly in front of his fellows. She noted the sigil on his breast. "What's your faction and name soldier?" The mech took a moment to glance back at his fellows. "I am Autobot Barricade. And you say that you're Autobot Elita-One?"

His voice left little doubt in her mind that he was struggling to reconcile the entire scene that he had witnessed. Elita was just glad that he wasn't taking the opportunity to retreat in the face of the unknown. She needed some answers. "Yes. Where are we?" she asked.

He blinked, thrown by her mundane question, but he answered perfunctorily. "Planet Earth."

Elita shared a look with Grindcore. "Earth?" he murmured.

She turned her attention back to Barricade. "Look, I'm just as uneasy about this as you are, but we need help. All of us are injured, and we have no idea where we are. I don't know what the Pit is going on, but I want to get to the bottom of it," she said. "Will you help us?" Barricade took a moment to consider it. He had known the Decepticon Elita-One, and this femme was a dead ringer for her, the name not withstanding. "I want proof that you are not a threat."

Elita shook her head. "If you think I'm going to deactivate my weapons systems, you are wrong. I will not allow my team into a potentially dangerous situation without arms."

"I cannot risk mine," he retorted.

Elita sized up this "Barricade". Physically, he looked the same as the mech she knew, but there was a slightly different air about him. Then, the proverbial flouro-light went off in her head. "Look, you know me as a Decepticon, correct?"

"Yes."

"Well, where I come from," she said for lack of better terminology, "You're the Decepticon. I don't trust you farther than my Companion can throw your Handler, but right now you are my team and my best chance for safety. We know nothing about this planet, and we must receive some treatment for our injuries. I give you my word that we will not harm you or yours."

Barricade considered this. "Alright. I'll take you to our home base."

"But Barri-"

"Hush Frenzy," Barricade barked. "We're taking them back with us."

Elita-One nodded. "My thanks."

Barricade eyed her with interest and caution. "Thanks are not necessary. I believe it would be in both teams' best interests if I kept you close."

Elita nodded, fully comprehending where Barricade was coming from. "Understood."

Frenzy sighed. "Fine, if you want to lead them back to the house, go ahead. They'll need disguise modes."

Barricade snorted and shot a round of exhaust. "You're right. Follow me."

The four Autobots and the Decepticon followed Barricade to the road that ran along side the junkyard. However, Barricade led them down the highway for about a mile before they came upon what he was seeking. It was a hill situated above a fairground that was teeming with people and vehicles. He pointed to it. "Take your disguise from among those vehicles, and hurry. We must not be seen."

Crankcase-Companion sneered for a moment as his Handler used his sensitive sight to scan a blue car that he found pleasing. "I guess this'll work."

Grindcore looked around, and then whistled and whirred. "Nice," he murmured as he scanned a sleek super-car.

Warpath spied a truck that he particularly liked. "This looks like it will do."

Signal Flare took a moment to look before settling on something a little less flashy than what his comrades had decided on. "Hum, I think I will take this one."

Elita-One carefully looked over her choices, trying to find something that would suit her size and preference. "Ah," she murmured.

Barricade was more familiar with the vehicles that they had chosen then they were, and as such he was amused by their choices. Signal Flare and Warpath had both chosen serviceable enough vehicles, an SUV and heavy duty truck respectively, but the other three had chosen cars known for their speed and price tag.

Mikaela was impressed as well. She walked over and stared at Elita-One and Grindcore. "A Dodge Viper SR10? Cool."

Barricade started. "You know cars?"

"My dad loves them and he taught me all that I know," she answered.

Elita-Companion smiled at the girl. "So, my disguise impresses you?"

"Oh yeah."

Barricade nodded to his new compatriots. "Now that we've gotten you disguises, let's get somewhere safe."

* * *

"Ravage! Stop doing that!"

The white cat looked up at the female innocently. :_Srry,_: he sent digitally.

"I regret the day that I allowed you to look at LOLCats with me." she muttered. She turned back to cooking the evening meal. "I wonder when Barricade and Prowl will get back. It's lonely without the Twins."

:_U has meh!_: Ravage chirruped.

She looked down at the cat. "As much as I love you Ravage, I'd like to also have mechs around who don't find the need to play with dying rodents."

Ravage-Companion shook his head and then completed his meal. She tried not to retch when she saw the poor mouse's tail slipping in between Ravage-Companion's lips. :_Srry Thunderblast. I'll stop being icky._:

Thunderblast-Companion patted his head. "It's okay Ravvy. I'm not completely disgusted. Just eat the mice you catch somewhere else from now on, okay?"

:_K_.:

She returned to cooking supper. She'd found that human cuisine was fun to make, and she especially enjoyed the ability to create so many different dishes. She stirred the stew and began to sing under her breath. She stopped when she heard the sounds of multiple vehicles pulling into the drive. The house that the Autobots were renting was on the outskirts of town, and there wasn't a neighbor close by.

Ravage-Companion and Thunderblast-Companion walked to the door when her Handler realized that there were newcomers with Barricade. She called to him when he got out of his car. "What's up Brandyn?"

"It's okay Thunderblast. They're alright."

She nodded, dropping the ruse. She was wary of the newcomers, but she didn't become truly suspicious until she saw the female Cybertronian who accompanied them. Thunderblast didn't think as she powered up her weapons. "No! Thunderblast stand down!" Barricade cried.

"But it's Elita-One!"

"I know who the hell it is Thunderblast. Ravage, come here."

The white cat creature did as he was told. :_Wuts up Doc_?:

Barricade turned to Elita. "I will trust you once you submit to allowing Ravage to search your memory."

Elita-One stared for a moment before nodding. "I take it he has some true telepathic ability?"

"Yes. Do you know how it's done?"

She nodded again. "I've had my memory searched before. It's standard for all personnel that work with the Allspark . . . Or at least it was where I come from."

Ravage cocked his head and then stared at the female Thunderblast called Elita-One. Normally, Ravage was flighty and juvenile, but when he used the ability that was his gift from his Chosen he became pure business. He sat down and issued a low cry to indicate that he was ready when she was.

Elita-One strode forward and knelt down beside the white cat. She reached out and touched his head. Ravage took that as his cue. Elita froze as she felt Ravage's presence in her mind. His touch was gentle, and she began to stroke his head while keeping one hand on his neck so that he could keep the connection.

Ravage searched through her memories, finding no suspicious patches or erasures. He was sure that her memory banks, both organic and mechanical, were pristine. It was only after ensuring that fact that Ravage even began to look through the memories themselves. When he did, he was utterly amazed.

:_Barricade, you won't believe this._:

"What is it Ravage?"

:_I don't know how, I don't know why, but this femme isn't from here. She's an Autobot, and she has fought Decepticons for most of her life. But there's more to it then that._:

Barricade stared at the femme. "Ravage, what else is there?"

:_She knows him, she knows Megatron. She can help us find him._: Elita snapped her head up. "You're looking for Megatron?"

Barricade didn't answer. "Ravage, is there anything else?"

:_Barricade I really, really don't think she's from around here._:

"Why?"

:_Because she knows Megatron, and he is her faction's biggest nightmare when he is our team's greatest hope._:

Barricade shook his head. "Ravage, what do you mean? What else could he be to our enemies?"

Ravage shook his head savagely. :_Listen! To this Elita he is the harbinger of doom! In her world Megatron is the leader of the Decepticons!_:

Barricade stared at her, and then turned his gaze to her team. "But . . . He is the one who founded the Autobots."

:_He founded them in our world Barricade, but not in hers._:

"'Our world'?"

:_It's the only way I can think to describe it._:

* * *

The squad all chatted amicably while they waited for their leader to show up. A large black man began to hum something as he sprawled on a bench in the back of the large equipment room. "Hey, Epps, you know where Captain is?" one of his comrades inquired.

The black man looked up, his white teeth flashing in one of his signature smiles. "Nah, Captain said he had a couple of things to do before he would meet us here."

Robert Raymond Epps went back to humming his little tune and observed the others. The soldier who'd asked about Captain sat down opposite Epps. He was a Hispanic man who hailed from Louisiana that went by the name of Fig. His full name was Jorge Figueroa, and it didn't take much to get him to revert back to the language of his childhood. Many a time had Epps and Captain railed at him to speak in English.

Another man took a seat next to Epps. "How long do you think these errands will take Captain? The men are ready and willing to go."

"Don't know Graham," Epps replied. "Captain will get here in his own sweet time."

"Be patient Jack," another man called out.

Graham shook his head. "He's taking a bloody long time."

"Careful man," Fig teased, "Your British is showing."

Graham shot the other man a look. "At least I'm still speaking something everyone else can understand when I start showing my ass."

Epps chuckled at the two and their bickering. Fig and Graham liked to pick at each other since they both hailed from cultures much different from the rest of the team. Most of the other boys had come from typical middle and lower class neighborhoods, except possibly for Captain. No one was entirely sure where Captain came from or if he had any family. He never spoke of siblings or parents, and his accent was so generic that it was difficult to place him. At best, Epps thought that he might hail from California or Nevada.

"How bout both of you boys cool it," Epps said. "I don't feel like breaking up a fight."

It was that moment that the door to the room slid open. Epps and the rest of the men looked up to see Captain striding into the room. "Let's roll boys," William "Captain" Lennox barked. "We've got aliens to hunt down!"


	5. The Autobot Haven

**Chapter 004: The Autobot Haven**

Mikaela sat in the living room and looked around. The house appeared lived in, but there were no pictures up on the walls. It seemed strange to her as used as she was to houses filled with the evidence of the inhabitants's pasts. She sighed and then looked up at her savior. Barricade was talking quietly to the woman called Thunderblast, and Mikaela took the time to observe her protectors.

Barricade-Companion had quite a flamboyant coloration, or at least it seemed so to Mikaela. His skin was a mocha color, but his hair was outrageously white. Amazingly enough, judging by his eyebrows, that shade of white was his natural color. He wore his hair in a short-but-shaggy style that flattered his classically featured face. His nose was aristocratic and straight, and his feline eyes were a blinding, electric blue. His facial markings were white and black triangular marks that formed a fan-like design around his eyes. When he spoke, Mikaela caught a glimpse of his long canines. She had first seen them when he'd been forced to stop and confront the three Decepticons. She still shivered from the memory of the growl he and his Handler made, and the sight of those wicked looking teeth.

At his side, Thunderblast-Companion was a striking woman. She was approximately Barricade-Companion's height - which was either a mite shy or just over six-feet - and her slim frame made her seem even taller. Her eyes were shaped differently than Barricade-Companion's, but they were still feline enough for Mikaela to be reminded of a replete lioness. Her facial features were delicate, her button nose was small and cute, and her cheekbones were high. Her skin was a chocolate brown, and her hair was a light, reddish-blonde. She looked like she could pass for a supermodel, except for her own tattoos. They were purple diamond shapes that were placed in a spiral pattern on her cheeks, and also as a line across her forehead.

Mikaela wished she knew what the two were discussing, although she suspected it was her and the strange Autobots they'd brought here. Speaking of, she glanced over at the two who were waiting a turn at getting a shower before Thunderblast patched them up. Both were good looking guys who would appear to most humans as being in their early twenties. Thinking of it, Mikaela would have pegged Barricade-Companion at around thirty and Thunderblast-Companion at about twenty-five.

The young man to her left had short cropped green hair, and she thought his name might be Grindcore. He had the same blue eyes as Barricade and Thunderblast, but rather than having light skin, his skin tone was a deep brown that was nearly a real black. This combination of dark skin and light eyes made his gaze appear especially piercing. His face resembled Barricade-Companion's a great deal, except Grindcore had a small scar across one cheek. It bisected his swirling, green facial markings and gave him a rough appearance.

The other one - she hadn't caught his name - was a tiny bit shorter than Grindcore. His skin was a dark mocha, and Mikaela realized that so far, only the woman who had come with them and one of the Decepticons had fair skin. The rest of this motley assortment of people and the few Decepticons that she had seen had skin tones that ranged from creamy browns to near black. The other man had a mop of black hair that curled around his face, and his markings were red chevrons that ran up and down each cheek. His face was unscarred, but its features resembled Thunderblast's more than Barricade's.

Mikaela began to wonder if the resemblances between Barricade and Grindcore-Companions and Thunderblast-Companion and this man possibly meant that the Autobots had ethnicities of some sort. The similarities between each pair of Companions weren't enough to denote a possible blood relation, but seemed indicative of a comparatively small gene pool. The thought then registered that perhaps it wasn't a good idea to assume so much based on her interactions with a small number of the aliens. For all she knew the resemblances were nothing more than sheer coincidence. Stranger things had been known to happen, for example, her situation.

Barricade looked up the stairway he was standing in front of and then stuck his head into the room. "Warpath, Signal Flare is done in the upstairs bathroom."

"Alright, Grindcore, you can have the shower," came a second voice.

Mikaela glanced up at the woman who entered the room. This was Elita-One. She'd heard that name loud and clear. Elita-One was the palest of them all, even paler than Mikaela's own olive complexion. Her skin made her eyes seem less strange, but it was still her eyes that Mikaela paid attention to. They held the expression of a woman accustomed to taking on the worst life could throw at her, but they were not unkind in the least. Her facial markings consisted of a chevron pattern on each cheek, stripes angled from her eyebrows to her temples, and a pale yellow rectangle in the middle of her forehead. Her face was round rather than long and combined with her auburn hair made her look faintly Celtic.

Warpath rose from his seat and ascended to the house's second floor. Grindcore rose as well and walked into the room Elita had just vacated. He nodded to her on his way in, and Elita took a seat across from Mikaela on an ottoman. It was then that Mikaela realized that Elita-Companion was covered only by a towel. The female alien smiled at the human girl. "I have not had the pleasure of your name. I am Elita-One."

Mikaela gulped. "Um, hi. I'm Mikaela Banes."

"Mih-kay-lah?" she sounded out softly. "That is a melodious name."

"Thank you," the girl replied. "Um, Elita . . . Has a ring to it." Well, no one could fault Mikaela for trying to be polite.

Elita-One laughed. "Thank you." The amusement faded from her face as the implications of the human girl's presence settled in her mind. "Mikaela, how did you become involved with Barricade?"

The girl was taken aback for a moment. "Well, I don't really know. I mean, I think they're after a pair of glasses that my friend gave me, but other than that . . . I just don't know."

Elita looked up as Thunderblast entered the room. "Alright then," the femme said, "Let's see you. Where do you have the most pain?"

"My back," Elita replied.

Thunderblast set down a metal case beside Elita-One and then gestured to her. Elita dropped the towel, causing Mikaela to squeak and turn her head. From the doorway came a masculine chuckle, and Frenzy's voice. "Humans are weird. They get all bent outta shape about seeing some skin! What's so wrong about admiring the body each of us is gifted with?"

"Remember Frenzy that we have to respect the human culture." Barricade explained patiently.

"It's still weird _mechynae_."

The female Autobots shared a look, Elita's confused and Thunderblast's indulgent. "Why did she react like that? And what are Frenzy and Barricade discussing?" Elita asked in a whisper.

"Humans are strange creatures. Depending on how they were raised, nudity either doesn't bother them or it embarrasses them greatly," Thunderblast answered. "From the looks of it, Mikaela falls into the latter category. Well, let's take a look . . . Oh dear."

Elita's gaze went from Mikaela to Thunderblast. "What is it?"

"Your back," she answered gently. "What caused your injury again?"

"My comrades and I were chained to an Allspark replica and someone tried to activate it."

"That would explain it perfectly," Thunderblast replied with no hint of irony. "Your back looks like a great deal of electrical energy was run through it. I'm amazed that you could stand to take a shower."

Elita sighed. "I had to stand facing the spray, and I kept the water chilly."

"Brave femme," Thunderblast whispered. "Here, lie on your stomach on the sofa. Mikaela, if it won't be too uncomfortable for you, may I ask you to help me?"

Mikaela turned her head and realized that all she could see of Elita-Companion was her buttocks. Mikaela could deal with that. "Okay. What do you need me to do?"

"Gently spread this ointment on her burns. I'm going to look at the others," Thunderblast said.

"Alright," Mikaela answered. She got up, took the ointment from Thunderblast's hands and sat down on the edge of the sofa beside Elita-Companion. Thunderblast left the room as Mikaela opened up the container. The ointment smelled like some exotic blend of mint and cinnamon. Carefully the girl spread it on Elita-Companion's burns. "I can see why Thunderblast was concerned," Mikaela murmured.

"You do?"

"Yeah, these burns are nasty." Mikaela examined the woman's back with a twinge of sympathy. The red-brown burns ran down Elita-Companion's back in a pattern that resembled the branching of a leaf-bare tree.

"I can't say I'm surprised. It hurt like the fires of the Pit when it happened. I'm actually amazed that a burned back is the only damage to my Companion, especially when I'll probably need most of the sensory nets in my Handler's back replaced," Elita explained quietly. The ointment was sucking away the pain and soothing the savage burns. "Thank you for helping."

"No problem. I'm glad to be useful."

Elita stayed on her stomach as Mikaela carefully closed the container of ointment. Thunderblast-Companion bustled back in and reached for the container. "I'll be needing this. Here, can you help bandage up her back? All you have to do is spread some of this stuff on her back and it will harden into a bandage. Just wash your hands in hot water afterward, okay?"

Thunderblast bustled back out before Mikaela could reply. "I guess so," she muttered.

Elita-Companion laughed. "Don't worry; I think I know what that is. Just pour it on and then smooth it over my entire back. But be quick, the formula dries fast."

Mikaela did as instructed and watched in amazement as it instantly began to harden. The bandage wasn't white, but instead a transparent brown. She remembered what Thunderblast had said and got up to wash off her hands. She could feel the bandage crackling on her right palm. "Um, Barricade? Where's a sink?"

He pointed. "In there is the kitchen. Feel free to grab something if you're hungry."

She nodded and walked into the cozy kitchen. She washed her hands and then glanced around. "Nice," she murmured.

Her cell phone vibrated, scaring the bejeezus out of her. She flipped it open. :_Hi! I'm Ravage! I'm waving at u!_:

Mikaela stared down at her cell with a mixture of incredulity and curiosity when movement registered in her peripheral vision. She glanced up to see a white cat creature waving awkwardly with one of his front paws. "Oh, hello," she said. "I remember you from earlier."

Her cell vibrated again. :_Kewl!_:

She glanced down at her phone and then back up at him. "Is this how you talk? Through texts?"

The phone vibrated again. :_Yes. least to hooman ppl. autobot ppl can hear meh in their handler heads._:

"I see," she said, even though she only vaguely did. She turned back and timidly began to search for something to snack on.

The phone vibrated. :_What cha lookin 4?_:

"A small snack."

:_Look in the thingie beside the micro. It has bread in it._:

"Thanks. Where's the peanut butter and jelly?"

:_Dunno. I think Frenzy's allergic to pnuts._:

"Really?"

:_Yeah. We tried pnut buttr and he got all blotchy and TB had to pump his Companion's belly._:

Mikaela winced. "That could not have been pleasant."

:_Nope. So I don think we have any pnut buttr._:

"Okay," she said as she examined a pot on the stove. It smelled delicious, but she wasn't sure if it was done or not. "I guess I'll have to make a turkey sandwich then."

:_ummm turky. Meh likeys turky. Tastes liek lazurbeak._:

Mikaela couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, I'll share."

Barricade walked in and smiled. "Thunderblast says that you can have some of the stew if you like. She says it's done."

"Thanks." Mikaela walked over and lifted the lid off the pot. The scent of the stew made her mouth water, and she became more acutely aware of how long it had been since she'd eaten. Not to mention that she'd expended a lot of energy running for her life. "Would you like a bowl?"

"Yes please."

She smiled. Well, at least the alien cop had manners. "Barricade, I have a question."

"Yes?"

She turned and handed him his bowl of steaming stew. "Why were those guys after me? What do I have that they want?"

Barricade walked over and opened a drawer on the kitchen island. He got out two spoons and handed one to her. "Your friend gave you something very important to both of our factions."

"The glasses," she said. "The blond and the black man kept mentioning the glasses."

"Yes. Those glasses contain a map to a very powerful relic," Barricade explained. "And possibly to the mech who had hidden the relic in the first place. Megatron."

Mikaela felt an odd shiver go up her spine. It wasn't a shiver of fear, but she still felt uneasy. "That sounds like an ominous name."

"Well, there are rumors that he was known by a different name before the First War," a voice said from the doorway.

Mikaela turned and stared into the electric blue eyes of the newcomer. He was taller than Barricade, with short, sandy blond hair and copper skin. He had patrician features that could have been stamped on the side of a Roman coin and his facial markings were patterns that gave the appearance of a strange helmet. He was lithe rather than stocky, and he was dressed in a pilot's flight suit. "According to some of our intel, Megatron might not be his birth name. There are whispers that his name was originally Ultra Magnus."

"Good to see you back Commander," Barricade said jovially.

"Good to be back Cade," the man answered. "So, you are the human Mikaela?"

She nodded. "Yes. Who are you?"

He smiled at her, revealing his own set of fangs. "I am Starscream, leader of the Autobots."

* * *

Arcee looked over the data that Killerbee-Handler had collected with his sensitive instrumentation. During his time as a member of the Elite Guard Killerbee had been one of the best recon soldiers available. "What do these readings indicate?"

Killerbee cleared his throat and whirred. "We will have to wait until Ratchet returns to be sure, but I do believe these readings indicate a transwarp gate."

"Transwarp? Are you sure it isn't a space bridge?" she asked.

"I'm sure," Killerbee replied. "Space bridges produce a tell-tale glow when they're activated, and nothing in that junkyard could have been used as a receiver. Transwarping produces the kind of flash of light that we saw, not to mention the energy signatures I recorded."

Jazz entered the room with another Decepticon in tow. "Lady Arcee, Ratchet has returned."

Ratchet looked from Arcee to Killerbee. "I have been briefed on the events of this afternoon."

"Good," Arcee said brusquely. "I want you to look at the readings Killerbee recorded. He says that they were caused by a transwarp gate."

Ratchet nodded and looked to the younger male to receive the readings through the digital link that all Cybertronians could use. Ratchet-Companion's face was passive as he examined the results intently, much to the dismay of his impatient leader. "Killerbee is right, these were caused by an unusually large transwarp gate."

"Could a Transformer have caused it? There are still Seekers left from the time of the Primes." Arcee hissed the last word. No Decepticon would ever remember the Primes with any sort of respect.

"I do not think so," Ratchet answered. "The gate is simply too big for any one Transformer to have caused. A group? Possibly. An individual? No."

"So, you think that the femme who called herself Elita might be a plant?" Jazz asked.

Arcee shook her head. "I cannot be sure. Her acting was superb if she is an imposter, but at the same time I cannot help but entertain doubts. Something is . . . Off."

Ratchet nodded. "What's more, according to Killerbee's readings, there may be more to it than just some convoluted plot."

"Why do you say that?" Jazz asked.

"There are traces of energy that conform to some old data in the Archives," Ratchet explained, a strange excitement lighting his features. "The energy spikes conform to readings taken from not only the Allspark, but the Matrix of Leadership as well."

"_Holy shit_," Killerbee breathed.

"The humans are pathetic insects," Ratchet drawled, "But I do find that particular idiom fitting and particularly ironic right now."

* * *

"So what's the deal this time Captain?" Epps asked. "We're rollin' pretty light for an alien related mission."

Captain smiled. "We're not exterminating this time. We're only acting as an escort."

"Armed?" Graham asked.

"Yes. These guys are supposed to be friendly, but according to Boss there are unfriendlies running around too," Captain explained. "Our missions is to get this Starscream guy's team to HQ and to ensure the safety of Mikaela Banes. No cowboy stuff."

"What about the other team?" Graham asked.

"Yeah, I saw that Beta team is running an op as well," Fig added.

"They're a decoy," Captain answered. "Making sure that the unfriendlies don't get near us. We're to be the last line of defense."

"Gotcha," Epps said. "So how long 'til we get there?"

"Maybe another hour," Captain answered. "We're heading to the outskirts of a little city called Tranquility."

"Ironic," Graham murmured.

"Ain't it though?" Captain replied with a smile.


	6. Prowl

**Chapter 005: Prowl **

Thunderblast entered the living room again not too long after Mikaela had left for the kitchen. She smiled at her patient who was still lying on her stomach. "Mikaela looks like she's a good nurse."

Elita smiled up at Thunderblast. "Yes, yes she is."

"Here, let's go upstairs and find you some clothing," Thunderblast said as she helped Elita One to her feet. "We'll have to dress you in some of the boys' clothes though. Mine would never fit your frame."

Elita examined her compatriot and came to much the same conclusion. "I would think not. You're much slimmer than I."

The two females made their way to the second floor, and Elita-Companion was led into a mid-sized bedroom. To a human the room would feel a little small, but to Elita it felt positively miniscule. The room was decorated in browns and pale creams, but the Spartan nature of the furniture was what really cemented the fact that this was a male's room. That and the pile of clothes on the floor near the closet.

Thunderblast strode to the bureau next to the far wall and opened up a drawer. "Starscream's shirts should fit you, but you'll need a belt for his pants. They'll be a little big even on your Companion's generous hips."

Elita-Companion had frozen when she heard the name. "Did you say . . . Starscream?"

Thunderblast-Companion turned and gave Elita a queer look. "Yes," she answered, "Starscream. He wouldn't mind giving you clothes at all. I swear, the way that mech goes about giving away all he's got for a good cause . . . Sometimes it's quite maddening."

Elita-Companion was still silent. Thunderblast cocked her head in a feline gesture. "What's wrong? Is Starscream someone bad back where you came from?"

"Yes, he's the right hand of evil."

Thunderblast-Companion looked utterly taken aback. "Surely you're joking."

Elita-Companion's face didn't change.

"Okay, you're not joking," Thunderblast-Companion said as she sat down heavily on the bedspread. "He's really a bad guy there?" she asked with a note of complete disbelief.

"Yes, he's a bad guy where I'm from," Elita-Companion answered quietly. "It's that Starscream's fault that we're here."

"'That Starscream'?"

Elita-Companion glanced out the window to the barn that she knew housed her Handler. The Handlers had just been joined by another, so she knew that Starscream-Companion was now in the house. Her Handler could see his Handler moving around the front part of the barn. Her team was huddled in the back awaiting Thunderblast-Handler's medical treatment. "I have already come to the conclusion that you and your band are much different than the ones that I have known. I am willing to give you all a chance. I would have never imagined that I would say this, but I begin to trust you Thunderblast."

Thunderblast-Companion grinned. "I am glad then. I sort of like you."

Elita-Companion returned the gesture. "And I you."

The two shared another moment before Thunderblast turned to the task of finding clothing suitable for Elita-Companion. She dug through Starscream's clothes and finally pulled out a pair of well-worn jeans and a tank top. "Here, the jeans should fit and the tank top has elastic properties."

Elita-Companion took the clothing and quickly donned the jeans and shirt. The jeans felt very alien against her skin, but the cotton and polyester tank top felt a little better.

Thunderblast-Companion shook her head as she examined Elita's ensemble. "No, let's do this!"

Thunderblast dug around in Starscream's bureau and found a button-up shirt. Elita put on the shirt, and Thunderblast-Companion tied it underneath Elita-Companion's breasts. Elita glanced at herself in the mirror. The combination of white tank and dark blue shirt did nice things for her coloration. She actually sort of liked these clothes. "My thanks," she murmured.

"Come on then. Let's go get something in your Companion's stomach. You must be famished."

* * *

Prowl-Companion sat in the corner of the kitchen on his favorite padded bench, listening to the intriguing conversation but not participating. His amber eyes took in the scene of the human female holding court over his comrades with a small smirk of humor. He liked this human, but he kept out from under the others. He knew he was merely tolerated because of his "brother".

Being a former Decepticon could do that for one.

He glanced up at the one known as his twin. Barricade and he were actually related - but only distantly. Barricade was one of his descendents through one of his siblings; neither mech was entirely sure which one. Prowl was old, much older than any of the Autobots. He had not seen the first of the Cybertron Wars, but he'd seen many since on the side of the Decepticons. However, this last time he'd finally gotten tired of dealing with the Decepticon intrigues and thrown in with the Autobots. Prowl-Companion picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. It was that moment that he caught sight of her.

She was exquisite. Prowl liked his femmes with some meat on their bones and some metal on their struts, and damn if she didn't have both. In the barn out back he hadn't gotten a good look at her Handler because she'd been blocked by Thunderblast-Handler as the medic repaired her injured back, and of course in the house she'd been upstairs. Now he could see both halves of her, and both Handler and Companion were sexy beyond belief. :_Is this your Elita-One?_: he sent to his descendant.

Barricade-Handler nudged him in the barn, and Barricade-Companion looked his way with a small smile. He'd caught the interest in his ancestor's tone. :_Yes. She's a beauty isn't she? Hard to believe that she was once the leading lady of the Decepticons in our world hunh? From all accounts, she's an exact replica of the one from our world._:

Prowl didn't entirely follow Barricade's explanation, but he got the gist of it. :_No, I can see it._:

:_How?_:

:_Look at the way she moves. She's a warrior, no doubt about that,_: he answered.

The warrior lady in question chose that moment to glance over at him, and their eyes and optics collided. She was giving him a curious look, and Prowl decided to give her something he rarely gave anyone. He smiled.

Her answer was just as quick. "Well, you are quite the surprise."

Prowl's grin grew. "How so?"

"I was expecting you to be a Decepticon."

Her admission startled a laugh out of him. "Why's that?"

She gave him a dry stare. "From my observations of this world, everyone I knew as a Decepticon has become an Autobot, and everyone who was an Autobot is a Decepticon. From your position in my world I induced that you would be a Decepticon here."

"Because I'm an Autobot in your realm," he mused aloud, still quite amused by her explanation.

"One of the highest ranking," she further explained. "The Prowl I knew was even injured in the attack that started the war in my realm, as you put it."

Prowl nodded respectfully. "Well, your induction was correct, I used to be a Decepticon, but I decided to throw in with the Autobots."

She looked curious now. "I see," she murmured. She then gestured in the kitchen to the spot next to him on the bench, and in the barn to the spot next to him on the tarp-covered hay that created a seat.

"Pop a squat," he said jovially, using an Earth phrase that he particularly liked.

Her Companion's nose wrinkled adorably as she did as he bid. Her Handler sat like most of her type would - with her legs firmly planted on ground and her spinal column straight -, but her Companion sat with her legs curled under her. She leaned towards him slightly, showing all who could see that she was comfortable being around him.

Out of this group, she was the only one who was except for Barricade.

"I apologize for my abrupt speech," she murmured. "You surprised me. I am Elita-One by the way."

He gave her a wolfish grin. "I do not mind and I know. My name is Prowl as you've guessed. So, Elita-One, why are you here?"

She gave him a look that indicated that she was perfectly aware of his flirting. Her answer and face was completely serious. "I have no idea whatsoever."

* * *

"I'm doing the best I can," she hissed across time and space at him. "But we've hit upon some . . . Difficulties."

"Difficulties Lady Arcee? The Fallen will not be pleased," he answered calmly. "We must find the Allspark and destroy the insurgent Megatron. Already the rebels that Starscream left on Cybertron are causing problems. If Starscream makes good on his threat and finds Megatron there will be no avoiding more war. You know as well as I that the only reason we triumphed the first time was because Megatron disappeared. Without him the Autobots have no chance. If they find him, they will."

Arcee nodded. "I will continue with my original course of action, but I need to know what The Fallen wants done about our new arrivals. I would love to go with my gut and just kill them, but I would prefer to know what my lord wishes, Ironhide."

He leaned forward, a smirk written across his face. "I'll get back to you on his reply," he said.

Arcee nodded and stiffly cut the communication.

Ironhide leaned back in his chair and stared at the screen. He knew Arcee's real intent behind the question of what to do about the new elements that had shown up in this little drama. She wanted her kill of this new, strange Elita to be sanctioned. Ironhide didn't care one way or the other just as long as Lady Arcee prevented Megatron from rising again. Megatron was the only mech in the galaxy who could challenge The Fallen for the right to rule Cybertron. At this time only the Sentinels knew why Megatron was so dangerous to The Fallen's rule, but Hide had no illusions about how quickly the Cybertronian people could be informed.

He rose and strode from the communications center through the forbidding metal fortress that was the Temple of Simfur. When he reached the throne room he bowed low at his waists. "My lord, I have the report from Earth."

The rumble of The Fallen's voice filled the room. "Continue."

Ironhide stepped into the room further and waved the doors closed. "Lady Arcee reports that the Autobots have been sighted, and they made contact with the boy who possessed the map. Unfortunately, he did not have it and the Autobots recovered the person who did. What's more, there is a new wrinkle in all of this," Ironhide explained.

"A new wrinkle?" The Fallen inquired. He shifted in his seat, his Handler's immense bulk hidden by shadows. His Companion was sprawled lazily in the special seat built into all Handler-sized furniture for the Companion. Ironhide could only see The Fallen's Companion because of a well-placed shaft of light. The rest of him was left in shadow. Ironhide knew it was to intimidate those who sought audiences with him.

"During a confrontation with the Autobots Barricade and Frenzy, a strange group of Autobots appeared. According to readings taken at the time by Killerbee, the group came through a gate that had trace samples of Allspark energies."

The Fallen leaned forward in his seat, waving away the monitors that had been hovering at his sides. "He's sure?"

"Ratchet confirmed," Ironhide answered. "But that is not what I think will interest you the most."

"Cheeky of you," The Fallen murmured. "What do you believe will interest me so?"

"May I show you?" Ironhide asked.

"I grow weary of teasing," The Fallen said sweetly, "But I will make an exception for you Ironhide. Show me."

Ironhide sent the image to one of The Fallen's monitors and waited in silence to see his lord's reaction. The Fallen was silent for a long moment, staring at the image on the screen. The image was taken by Arcee and showed a femme lying on the ground, semi-conscious. Rust-red hair haloed the female Companion's face, and Ironhide felt a stirring of appreciation for the sight of her pale face against the vivid shade of her hair and the armor of the same shade beneath her cheek. Her Companion was lying atop her Handler's torso, and both halves wore the same disoriented look on their faces. Aesthetically, it was quite the pretty sight.

"Elita-One," The Fallen breathed. His Companion's face for a moment was unguarded, and Ironhide saw the lust and obsession. "Ironhide!"

"Yes?"

"Contact Arcee. Tell her I want that femme captured," The Fallen stated. "Do it now."

"Yes my lord." Ironhide bowed and left the room.

The Fallen watched him go and then turned his attention back to the image still on his monitor. He reached out and his digits, both gloved and metallic, gently followed the curve of her jaws. "You will be mine," he murmured to her image. "I will not lose you again. Ever."

* * *

"Sir, you have a call."

He turned from his contemplation of the skyline of Mission City to face his young secretary. Her face was elfin underneath the demure glasses she wore, her blue eyes shining with intelligence. "It's from William."

He nodded and picked up the telephone. "Yes?"

"We're nearing the outskirts of Tranquility now. We'll be there in half an hour tops."

"Good," he answered. "William, be careful. I have a feeling about this."

"Noted," William answered. "I'll be extra careful sir."

"Much luck."

"Thanks sir," William replied before cutting the connection.

"Ms. Beak," he asked, "Would you see to readying rooms for our guests? They'll be arriving sometime tonight."

"As you wish sir."


End file.
